


A Lovely Repentance

by bitchywitchy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apologies, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Weight Gain, but its more of a product of healing from the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchywitchy/pseuds/bitchywitchy
Summary: Draco gritted his teeth. Merlin, she was so fucking annoying! “Would you just accept my fucking apology Granger!”Hermione leaned closer to him. “Why is it so bloody important that I accept! Why me?”“Because I’ve heard your screams in my nightmares every night. And at this point, I’m willing to try anything to get them to stop”orDraco just wants to apologize. Hermione just wants to move on.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 16





	A Lovely Repentance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I just wanted to mention a general tw for weight gain and loss. Hermione starts out this chapter describing her body after a year and I know that can be triggering. I want to make it clear that Hermione's weight loss is a product of her year on the run, not an eating disorder. If you feel this needs more warnings, please let me know!

November 7th, 1999 

Hermione frowned at herself in the mirror. 

“I could have sworn this zipped last week,” She said to herself as she turned to the side and started to tug on her skirt zipper once more. 

It was official. Her skirt didn’t fit. It could zip about halfway, but no amount of tugging was going to get it up any further. Annoyed, she pulled off her skirt and cast an enlarging charm. 

As she performed this charm, Hermione thought back to September 1st and remembered her very different dilemma with her uniform then. 

_______________________

September 1st, 1999 

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. It was not a pretty sight. Her skirt was practically falling off her hips and her starched dress shirt was hanging awkwardly from her shoulders. She knew she lost weight during her time on the run with Harry, but she assumed that lunch and dinner at the Burrow would have helped her gain most of the weight back. 

Obviously not. 

Hermione grimaced at her reflection. It wasn’t that she looked bad (well, that wasn’t the only reason), it was more that she looked unhealthy. She looked… defeated in a way she thought she hadn’t since the Battle of Hogwarts. Voldemort had taken his toll on everyone both physically and emotionally, but she defeated him! He didn’t get to have any physical evidence that he had almost defeated them. 

She also wanted to put up a good front for the younger years. She wanted to prove that Hogwarts was their home, a safe place, where the biggest thing one had to worry about was passing classes, not simply surviving. But how could she do that when she looked as though she had crumpled in on herself. 

Especially as she was the only one to return to Hogwarts from the ‘Golden Trio’ ( _Merlin she hated that phrase_ ), she wanted to show that one, she was just a person, and two, she was surviving. They were all surviving. Hogwarts would survive. 

But, looking at herself in the mirror, taking in her awkwardly hanging clothes, the permanent dark circles, the gaunt cheekbones, it looked like she was a victim. It felt like everyone could see the nightmares of Malfoy Manor and the Battle of Hogwarts written across her hollow face. 

Hermione sighed as she cast her usual glamor charms and shrunk her uniform. At this moment she was incredibly grateful to have her own room. 

“It is going to be a good term” Hermione whispered to herself. If only she could believe that. 

______________________________

“I only have one start of term notice for you all” Professor McGonagall said, standing from her chair, “In an effort to combat the toxic house loyalty that has festered her, we are changing the rules of mealtime,” murmurs broke out among the students and McGonagall paused a moment waiting for silence, “We are asking that no more than two people from each house and year sit at the same table” At this, a chorus of shouts of disapproval rang out from the crowd. “Of course,” McGonagall said, powering through the disapproval, “You will be sitting with your house during feast and celebration. Food and mealtimes are one of the cornerstones of a community and I’m disappointed that we have kept you all apart during these times.” 

Hermione sat in shock. It made sense. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. 

She just caught the tail end of McGonagall’s speech, “I expect our upper years, especially our returning 8th years to lead by example with the rule. Now, will the prefects please lead the first years to their dorms! Have a wonderful term.” 

_We’ll see how that goes,_ Hermione grumpily thought to herself. Distracted by her thoughts as she made her way out of the Great Hall, she bumped into someone. 

"I’m so sorry-”

“Watch it-”

“Malfoy!?”

“Granger?”

Realizing who she bumped into, Hermione froze, looking up to meet cold, grey eyes. Susan silent beside her. 

For a moment, neither said anything. They just stared at each other, taking in the changes since the battle of Hogwarts. 

"It’s so incredibly annoying that he looks decent,” Hermione thought. And he did. Gone were the near-black circles under his eyes, his face had lost some of its skeletal gauntness, and somehow in the months since the battle, he’d managed to grow a couple of inches. It was quite unfair. 

Suddenly, Malfoy dropped his stare. 

“Could I talk to you” Malfoy looked around the Great Hall, which was clearing out, but still had some curious onlookers, “privately?” he continued, lowering his voice. 

Hermione just stared at him, frozen by the fact that he was actually being civil. 

“Please?” It looked as though it pained him to say the word. 

Hermione deliberated for a second, then sighed, “Fine. I’ll meet you outside the 8th year dorms.”

“What do you mean you’ll meet me?” 

_Ah, there was the old Malfoy,_ Hermione thought. 

“I mean, I don’t want to deal with the whispers if we leave together and I’m certainly not letting you walk behind where I can’t see you, so, you leave and I’ll meet you in five minutes.” Hermione raised an elegant brow. “Hurry along.” 

Malfoy opened his mouth as if to say a scathing retort, but thought better of it and turned to start walking. 

Hermione stared in shock. What the hell was about to happen? 

_________________

As Hermione climbed the staircase to the entrance to the 8th year dorms, she paused at the top for a second to take in the sight of a nervous Malfoy. 

He was pacing back and forth, his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose. muttering to himself. It was funny in an absurd way. Hermione thought he was like a block of marble, above such base emotions as nerves.

Thoroughly amused, Hermione climbed the last step and called out, “Malfoy, I'm touched, is all this pacing for me?” 

He whirled around, “No, that’s preposterous, why would I-”

Hermione cut him off, “It’s a joke Malfoy. Calm down. So why do you need to meet with me? And why did it need to be private?” 

There was a long pause where Malfoy seemed to simply banish his neves. He drew himself up and said, “I would like to apologize.” 

_Malfoy? Apologizing? Did hell freeze over while she was walking over?_ Hermione thought, blinking in shock, but all she managed to utter was, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said as his hand crept to the back of his neck, a tell of his nerves. 

“Well, go on then,” Hermione said, desperate to hear what Malfoy would consider an apology.

“Well, first, I’m sorry for calling you Mudblood, I was a shitty pompous child who had never had to think for himself or interact with people who didn’t praise my every move,” his words came out measured, almost scripted. “And I couldn’t handle the fact that a muggle-born witch was better than me in every class. But that’s no excuse.” 

“Do you expect me to disagree with you?” There was a long, awkward pause, “is that it? Because if so, I have some reading I really need to get caught up on.” 

“You haven’t read through each textbook already? I’m shocked Granger.”

Hermione flushed. Malfoy was right. But there’s no reason he needed to know that. “You know one doesn’t usually insult the person they’re apologizing to,” Hermione said, trying to push past Malfoy to get to the entrance to the dorm. 

“Wait, Granger, I’m not done,” Malfoy said, a note of panic edging into his voice, moving to block the entrance to the 8th year towers. 

Hermione sighed, deliberating her options. On one hand, being around Malfoy made her uncomfortable, he reminded her of the memories she had worked so hard to bury. On the other, she was genuinely curious about the rest of his apology. Decision made, she answered, “Fine. But we’re sitting down. I refuse to listen to an apology that forces me to look up the entire time.” Hermione walked to the portrait, said the password, and turned back to a frozen Malfoy. “Well? Come along.” And Draco followed. 

Mercifully, the common room was empty, the 8th years taking advantage of the luxury of having their own quarters after six years of shared rooms. Hermione chose a plush red velvet armchair near the fire and nodded to the chair opposite her. 

“Really Granger? You had to choose the most obnoxiously Gryffindor chairs in this entire common room?” Malfoy drawled. 

“Nothing is keeping me here, so if you really want to offer an apology I would suggest not insulting my choice of seat,” 

“Sorry Granger,” Draco replied, rather unconvincingly. 

“The apology?” Hermione prompted. 

Draco took a moment to collect himself, slipping back into the cool mask of the first part of his apology, “My foremost apology is for my family. What they did to you was inexcusable, especially Bellatrix. I know that she caused you an extraordinary amount of pain and I’m so sorry for what happened to you in my home. I should have done something to stop her and I am truly sorry for that.” 

Hermione heard the sincerity in his words, but his apology threatened to surface memories she had desperately tried to bury. Breathing a little faster, she curled in on herself, almost trying to physically push the memories away. Push away the pain and fear and panic-

“Granger are you okay?” Malfoy said, a thread of panic entering his voice. He reached forward and hesitantly placed a hand on her knee.

“Please don’t touch me.” Hermione tried to shout, but it really came out as a whimper.

Draco paused, immediately taking his hand from her knee, “Fuck, I’m sorry Granger I-”

“Just- it’s fine _._ If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to bed. _”_ Hermione rose from her chair and walked up the stairs, barely hiding the tremors that wracked her body. 

And Draco watched her go, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that urged him to comfort her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all liked it! The next chapter should be up next week.


End file.
